


You Fell from Heaven (In Every Lifetime I'll Love You to My Dying Breath)

by br0ken_hands (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/br0ken_hands
Summary: Twisted!Soulmates AU; Banished from heaven for falling in love with each other, Mercy and Pharah are stripped of their wings and cursed to walk the earth for a thousand lifetimes as humans until the wrath of God puts an end to their wretched cycle and send them both to the depths of hell. Mercy begs for a compromise, something, anything to stay with Pharah, but perhaps she doesn't yet know that no being, angel or human, wins anything when they bargain with God.





	1. Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Yell at me about this on my twitter @haughtsuniform

Mercy knew that this was a bad idea, a terrible idea, really, but this was Pharah and this was heaven, and if they kept this up, they'd truly be kicked out of heaven, but Angela couldn't bring herself to stop. No, not even the threat of banishment from the heavenly skies itself and the stripping of her angel wings was enough to deter her from falling in love with her fellow angel - a gorgeous brown-eyed beauty named Pharah, gorgeous, kind, and so very off limits, but the heart wants what it wants. And that, exactly, is why she's here now, on her knees, kneeling before a glowing throne, groveling for some semblance of mercy, Pharah lying motionless just a few wingbeats away, pinned down by archangels.  
  
"Please, you don't have to do this!" She pleads, whimpering as an angel brings a fiery sword close to Pharah's back. She's so tired, tired of hiding, tired of fighting these angels, so tired of fighting these laws that ban her from experiencing the most holy of all feelings - this attachment, this passion, this love for another angel, a woman nonetheless, but for this, she would find the energy to fight.  
  
The man on the throne, shakes his head, fists clenched on the armrests. His voice is low, like a roiling sea, deep, and rings out across the skies. "Sin and holiness cannot coexist, angel. You know this, and still, you chose to act in darkness," He nods towards the armed angel, and the angel sweeps the weapon over Pharah's prone back, shearing off her wings. "Mercy, Pharah, you are hereby banished from the heavenly realms, cursed to walk this earth for a thousand lifetimes until my judgement upon the world destroys it and sends you to the deepest depths of hell."  
  
Mercy can't focus on anything but the sobbing whimpers spilling from Pharah's lips, barely noticing the heat of the approaching sword. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth, a pained gasp tearing from her mouth as searing hot pain flares all across her back. She pitches forward, falling prostrate on the golden cobblestone, paralysed by the sharp agony that seizes her back. She gulps in air, desperately trying to blink away the tears that gather around her eyes, blurring her vision. Through her tears, she can make out the angels dragging Pharah by her ankles and dragging her heaving body towards the edge of heaven.  
  
"Please," Mercy tries again. "If you will cast us out of heaven, at least promise me that Pharah and I will remain in each other's lives for every lifetime we live. Surely, a loving God knows the pain of being separated from the one another loves." She begs, tears finally rolling down her cheeks.  
  
God exhales loudly, his voice loudly booming over all the angels before him. "Never shall it be said that I am not a merciful God. Very well, Mercy. In every lifetime, you two shall know each other, but only in the first will you know of what happened here. When death claims you, all of your memories as angels will be wiped from your memories, as it has been with all the banished that have come before you."  
  
Mercy lets out a thankful sob, feeling heavy hands of the angels around her coming down on her shoulders and beginning to pull her towards the lip of heaven.  
"Thank you." She sobs, casting a glance towards Pharah, those beautiful umber eyes still hidden behind closed lids.  
  
"But Mercy," God says, and Mercy's heart clenches.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
A shadow crosses over God's face. "In every lifetime, you will be destined to be the reason Pharah dies. This is my decree."  
  
Mercy has no time to gasp, no less protest, before she can feel herself being thrown from the skies and being the plummet towards the ground. A wail escapes her lips at the surprise, and she desperately tries to beat her wings to stop the fall, but her back only flares up in great pain again. She sees Pharah fall after her, limp body descending towards the earth. Mercy reaches her arms out and collects her lover in an embrace, closing her eyes as they continue to fall. Pharah's back is scarred where her wings used to sit, and Mercy has no doubt that her own back looks the same, she can only hope that in this new place, she and Pharah will be able to love each other as they so desperately wanted to in heaven.  
  
It is only later when both of them strike the ground, that Mercy lets what happened sink in, allows the tears to fall again.


	2. Egypt

Learning to function as a human is infinitely harder than Mercy, no, Angela now, would have thought. A three day trek brought the two to signs of civilization, and they soon found themselves working the fields under the shadow of the Great Pyramids.

There was irony in the fact that God threw them into Egypt, Angela thinks, after all, it was Egypt that held God's chosen people prisoner for so many years, what place would be more fitting to begin her own imprisonment upon this earth?  
Sweat drips between her brows, shoulders red from the sun. The heat was not something she was used to, even though the planet had made its revolution around the sun many times since their fall. Angela shifts closer to the shade of the sycamore tree and rebalances the tablet on her knees. It had taken her time to learn the writing systems of the people she now lived among, but the effort had paid off.

Angela squints past the shade towards the field where Fareeha toiled under the hot Egyptian sun, threshing wheat fields and shoving the chaffs into a sack by her side. There was something to be said for Adam who had to work the earth for sustenance when he was banished from Eden. Angela would do her share when the sun's intensity faded later in the day; the fairness of her skin often resulted in painful burns at the peak of day, but she could still understand the effort and sweat required to reap the fields. 

Pressing her stylus into the clay tablet, Angela spells out her name, then Fareeha's. She picks the clay from the nib of the stylus and presses down again, beginning the long process of writing down their story at the request of Fareeha.

 

\- 5 years later - 

 

Angela sets down the brush, black ink covering the newly painted walls of the tomb. Although it was a smaller pyramid that she was working on, Angela had found favour in the patron by way of her story and received permission to paint those very hieroglyphs she pressed into the clay tablet five years ago onto a noble's wall. Their story had become a quiet tale that spread across the area, sometimes drawing whispers and pointed stares from people in neighbouring communities, but Angela was far from bothered. No, in fact she relished in them, pulling Fareeha's fingers closer in her palm and entwining their fingers. No doubt they had both suffered entirely too much for their love in Heaven, it would be a crime to hide here.

 

\--

 

Fareeha's death comes unexpectedly, and if you asked Angela, she'd tell you Fareeha deserved a better first death. It's slow, horribly so. It's an infected wound on her thigh that does her in, a wound from Angela's clumsy swing of a sickle late one summer's evening. It's not a deep cut, but a tumble into the Nile and water-borne bacteria entering the wound seals the deal. 

Angela holds Fareeha's head on her lap gently, brushing aside thick black hair from overheated skin, a compress wrapped around the wound. It had begun to fester days ago and Fareeha's health slowly declined as she turned down offers of food and drink and fell into a deep fever. As Fareeha's breathing evens out and she falls into a fitful slumber, Angela raises her head to the heavens.

"Elohim, why my God?"

Fareeha dies not a week later and Angela's eyes do not regain their spark until her next life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the spelling is weird, it's because I'm Canadian lmao  
> No idea when the next update is coming, I guess whenever I'm hit with a wave of inspiration.  
> By the way, my big project is up now, so if you'd like, go check that out.

**Author's Note:**

> Mwahahaha when I first proposed this idea to my little sister, she nearly slapped me from through the laptop screen. This is mostly going to be a side-project for when I get writer's block while I work on a big piece for Wynonna Earp. If you haven't watched WE yet, give it a shot, it's really fun. Because of this, I won't be updating regularly, so click subscribe so you get a headsup when a chapter drops if you like the premise. Nothing happy comes out of this, so this is angsty jackoff-land, basically. If you'd like, drop a kudo, or even a comment about what time-period you'd like to see the birdmoms in, and I'll try to write in some ideas or whatnot. Also, this is SUPER un-beta'ed, so if it's riddled with mistakes, hmu and I'll clear them out.


End file.
